A Lush Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

chuckles. “I’m Blaze,” he says holding out his hand. “And I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot.”
    I stare at his hand for a moment, my fingers itching to grasp his.
    “Go on,” he whispers with a grin. “Shake it. I promise I washed after I took a piss the last time.”
    “Oh. My. God.” My gaze snaps up to his.
    “Come on,” he chides again. “Shake my hand, tell me your name, then we can go our separate ways knowing we were polite and the tour won’t be hexed.”
    I finally give in and shake his hand. “I’m Tully.”
    He holds on to my hand longer than he should. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Tully.”
    I yank my hand back. “Wish I could say the same.” I shrug. “But, whatever. See you around.”
    As I walk away down the hall toward the exit door I hear him chuckle before he mutters, “You can count on it.”

Blaze
    I t’s nine a.m. and the phone is ringing next to my head. I pry one eye open and grunt as I reach for it, reading, Shannon , on the screen. I’m not often thankful for my sobriety—I know it’s necessary, but it’s hard to be grateful for something that makes you feel like crap most days—but right now, I am. If this were me at nine a.m. six months ago, I’d be in a hell of a lot more pain than I am now.
    “Yeah?” I answer, my throat scratchy.
    “You’re still asleep?” Shannon asks immediately.
    “It’s nowhere near noon, I’m a rock star, what the hell did you expect?”
    She laughs. “Point taken. But wake up now, because we’ve got to talk business.”
    Like I said, I have a mind for business. I’m not sure if it’s nature, or nurture, but it doesn’t really matter. Either way it comes from my old man, who runs one of the biggest insurance companies in the world. He was a crappy father, and a reprehensible human being, but he knows business, and I got that from him—along with the addictive biochemistry. He’s a real peach my old man.
    “Okay.” I sit up in bed, untwisting my legs from the sheet and letting it settle around my hips. My cock is at half-mast because I was having a really great dream about Tully O’Roark, but I set that thought aside and focus on Shannon. “Shoot,” I tell her.
    “I’ve been fielding calls all morning from the NFL,” she says.
    If I wasn’t a moment ago, I’m wide awake now, and I grab my iPad from the nightstand and open up the notes app, ready to get the info down.
    “They’re beginning the planning for the halftime show at next year’s Super Bowl, and they’re looking at you guys for the headline slot.”
    “Holy fuck,” I breathe out. “Like Coldplay, Madonna, Rolling Stones headline slot? That slot?”
    “The very one,” she answers, pride oozing from her voice.
    “When will we know for sure?”
    “Well, here’s the thing…”
    Shit. Another catch. There’s always a catch with these deals.
    “They’re looking at you, but also another band. They’ve got about eight weeks until they need to decide, so they’re taking a closer look, putting out feelers, seeing what kind of terms you’d want, and then they’ll decide.”
    I rub a hand over the scruff on my jaw and remind myself to breathe. It’s like I can feel my blood pressure skyrocket, heart beating against my rib cage, and for a split second I find myself about to reach for the nightstand where in years past I would have had some cocaine to get my day started.
    “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what other band?” I ask her.
    She sighs. Yep, going to wish I hadn’t asked. “It’s Lush,” she tells me quietly.
    “Goddamit!” I yell, leaping out of bed. “Why do they have to be in the middle of every single opportunity we get? They’ve played the fucking Super Bowl before, doesn’t the NFL want some fresh faces?”
    “The NFL wants whoever will be best for business, you know that.”
    She’s right, I do know it, and I also know that it doesn’t do any good to bitch about it.
    “Right. What can we do